


Stay Together

by ShadowManShenanigans



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Late Night Conversations, Post-Canon, The Oh No Mobile, children keep your voices down, kind of pre-romance, let Gripps sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:01:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12661332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowManShenanigans/pseuds/ShadowManShenanigans
Summary: Bad dreams are banished and promises made — in the back of the Rowdy 3 van.





	Stay Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [everythingremainsconnected](https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingremainsconnected/gifts).



"Martin?"

A voice broke the night's stillness, and Martin opened his eyes, staring up at the roof of the van. He was breathing hard, like he had been running, and he was suddenly, uncomfortably aware of the sweat cooling on his skin, sending shivers through his frame.

"Hey," said the voice, and he turned his head, squinting in the bright moonlight without his glasses at the dark shape crouched next to him, precariously balanced in the scant inches between him and Gripps' snoring form. By the pitch of the voice, and the mass of long, dark hair, his tired mind finally pieced together the identity of the one who had woken him.

"I was sleeping, Drummer Girl," he said, voice low, all too aware that raised voices might stir the other occupants of the van from their light sleep.

"N ot very well, Rowdy Boy." Amanda stepped over him and squeezed between his body and the wall, wedging herself down on the mattress alongside him. "You okay?"

Martin didn't bother to turn his head to look at her — he could tell by the sudden volume of her voice that she was on her side, mouth close to his ear. He let out a sigh, and wished for a cigarette, but his last pack was in his vest pocket, which was hanging off the back of the driver's seat, out of reach. And Gripps had his lighter. Maybe. It was hard to keep track of who had what, sometimes — in the end, it didn't matter, since they were always together.

Or they had been, until they hadn't; Martin's breath hitched in his throat as he breathed in, and a hand crept over his own, curling slender fingers over his and warming the chill that had settled there. "Martin," said Amanda again, and this time he laced his fingers with hers, squeezing gently just to ground himself, for the reminder that they had escaped. They were together, and Blackwing didn't have them.

"I'm okay," he said. He wasn't — it would take him a while to regain the mindset of the outside world again, after so long in Blackwing and then longer in Wendimoor. Closing his eyes to sleep, though, brought with it the cold loneliness of their Blackwing prison. He shivered again.

"I'm sorry," said Amanda, hardly a whisper in the dark. "I'm sorry I couldn't find you sooner."

"Not your fault," said Martin, too sharp, too loud, and he winced, felt her emotions roil. "Sorry." He was still tired — the same aching weariness that dragged at his feet and eyelids, made his movements slow and his words difficult to put together. He hadn't even had the energy to join in on the smashing of the contents from an overturned dumpster — all broken televisions and boxy electronics that sparked and shattered under bats and tire irons and crowbars — he could only lean against the van and watch and revel in the sleepy contentment that was knowing his Rowdy boys and their Drummer Girl were close. That supernova heartbeat throbbing in his head — she kept him saner than she knew.

"We stay together," said Amanda, after a long moment in the dark, just breathing in sync, hands still clasped. "Don't you ever send us away again, do you hear? Never again."

"I won't let them touch you," said Martin. "Not ever."

"You don't need to protect me," said Amanda. Her foot was tapping against the side of the van, sock-footed and soft, barely audible — he could feel the shift of her muscles as she tap, tap, tapped away, to some tune he couldn't hear. "You're not allowed to sacrifice yourself to save me, okay? That isn't fair to you or to me. So don't. Ever again."

"I can't promise that," said Martin. He felt her shift again, and abruptly the line of warm at his side was gone as she climbed to her knees and leaned over him, hand still clasping his and pressing against his chest as she leaned down until her forehead rested against his, eyes too close to really focus properly, but he  _ saw _ her. Breathed her in — even without the rush of psychic energy, she smelled delicious.

"They don't get to touch you again," said Amanda, and her warmth made him shiver at the chill of her words. "Any of you. You're  _ my _ Rowdies, and they can't have you. Priest, Friedkin, Riggins — I'll fight all of them, and I'll win.  _ They don't get to have you _ . So." She nearly lost her balance, precarious as she was, and he lifted his free hand to rest on her waist, gentle and  _ there _ , should she need the support. He saw the flash of her teeth as she smiled. "Promise me, Martin. Promise me that we stay together."

"Always," he said.

"Thank you," she whispered, and raised her head, pausing to plant a chapped-lipped kiss to his cheek. "Remember that promise, Martin. I’m going to hold you to it." She laid down at his side again, this time plastered alongside him, one arm tucked between them and the other still holding tight to his hand – so close and warm and soft that he wondered if she expected him to vanish should she let go for even a second.

"Manda," he said, then stopped, head tipping to the side to rest against hers. Gripps grumbled in his sleep and rolled over, a mountain of heat on his right, and Martin finally felt the chill from his wakening begin to pass.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~@everythingremainsconnected i was gonna send you a bunch of short little one-shots and then this happened instead, i'm so sorry~~
> 
> This work was Not Edited.


End file.
